Anticipation, Too
by dawn341
Summary: First season story. Sequel to Anticipation. Christmas is drawing closer and Richie is suffering from his own kind of anticipation


Anticipation Too by Dawn Cunningham.

Author's notes:

This story takes place 24 hours after my previous story Anticipation. While reading it would help set the stage for this story, it isn't necessary. I also make references to another story of mine-A Day Of Thanks. Here again, having read this story is not necessary.

Disclaimers:

Duncan MacLeod, Tessa Noel, Richie Ryan, Joe Dawson, Adam Pierson (aka Methos), Benny Carbassa and Angie belong to Rysher. I'm just borrowing them. All other characters are figments of my over-active imagination.

Do not post or publish this story anywhere else, without my express permission. Feel free to share it with others as long as the disclaimers remain intact.

* HL * * HL * * HL * * HL *

Seacouver, December 22, 1992.

Richie Ryan poked his head through the door into the living room. "I'm home," he hollered as he cautiously checked out the area. Seeing no one in sight, he heaved a sigh of relief and came the rest of the way in, shutting the door behind him. It wouldn't have been the first time he'd surprised Mac and Tessa indulging themselves on various pieces of furniture in the living room. Or on the floor, for that matter.

Of course, they would know that he was due home about now. It had been his birthday present to Mac the night before-twenty-four hours alone with Tessa while the teenager was at the youth center lock-up. That and a blue silk nightgown that still raised his blood pressure whenever he thought about it. He could just imagine what it had done to the Immortal's once Tessa had put it on.

Richie tossed his backpack onto the kitchen counter and headed for the refrigerator. He had just pulled out all the makings for a sandwich when Tessa appeared from the hallway leading to the bedrooms.

"Hello, Richie," she said. "Did you have a nice time?"

"It was a blast!" Richie confirmed. He cast a knowing look at Tessa's robe. "Do I have to ask if you two had fun?"

Tessa blushed lightly. "We managed to keep occupied. The nightgown was beautiful, Richie. And it fit perfectly."

"I don't suppose you'd want to model it for me, would you?" Richie asked hopefully.

"Dream on." Duncan had come up behind them and he swatted Richie playfully on the head.

"Hey, can't blame a guy for trying, can you?" Richie eyed Duncan uneasily. "You aren't upset or anything, are you?"

"For what?" Duncan looked puzzled.

"Well some guys would get a little bent out of shape if another guy bought their lady something that... that... personal."

Duncan laughed. "No, I'm not upset about that. After all, you bought it for me, right?"

Richie grinned back. "Right!"

"So how was the lock-up?" Duncan asked, glancing at the clock on the wall. "I take it you didn't get kicked out early for bad conduct. Although they must have run out of food by the size of that sandwich you're making."

Richie dug through his backpack for a minute before waving a trophy in front of the couple. "Check it out, guys. You are looking at the Fifth Street Youth Center Monopoly Champion. I tell you, I'm destined to do great things in business. I'll be a tycoon before I'm twenty-five. Just wait and see."

"That's wonderful, Richie." Tessa gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Why don't you tell us all about it."

Richie finished making his sandwich and sat down at the dining room table with the two of them. While he ate, he regaled them with stories about all the things they had done at the lock-up. Finishing his sandwich, he noticed something was missing. "Hey! What happened to the cake? Don't tell me the two of you ate it up already!"

"Relax, Richie. I promised to save some for you. I just put it in a cupboard to keep it fresh. I'll get you a piece." She got up from the table and headed for the kitchen area. "Duncan, do you want another piece?"

"That sounds good, Tessa," Duncan said, getting up to help her.

"Hey, don't forget the ice cream," Richie called after him. "You can't have birthday cake without ice cream. Say-did that guy call about those motorcycle parts?"

"Yes, he did. He had already sold them." Duncan placed a huge slice of cake down in front of Richie. "What's wrong with your bike now? Is it safe to ride?"

"Oh, it's real safe to ride," Richie stated sarcastically. "Especially when the engine won't even start. I guess I'll just have to take the bus until I can save up enough to buy new parts. Unless, of course, you'd consider giving me a loan?"

Duncan scowled at the youth. "We've talked about this before, Richie..."

Richie waved his hand. "I know... I know... Lecture number 348-don't buy something until you have the money to pay for it, and lecture number 563-save something for a rainy day. Well, this is Seacouver-it rains a lot here."

"You never know what Santa Claus might bring you, Richie," Tessa said with a smile as she sat down with her much smaller slice of dessert.

Richie threw her a disbelieving look. "Santa Claus, yeah, right." He picked up his fork, having remembered his manners this time and waited until she joined them before digging into his own serving.

The teenager filled in Duncan as he ate his cake. He couldn't help but wonder if the Immortal was asking all the questions so the necessary parts would be under the tree. He'd been telling himself not to expect much for Christmas. Sure, they'd given him a nice watch along with some clothes for his birthday-but that had been his eighteenth birthday and even though he hadn't lived with them that long, they told him turning eighteen should be an important day in someone's life. And the way Tessa kept frowning at some of his clothes, he was fairly certain what he would be getting for Christmas, too. He didn't blame her-some of his clothes were in really bad shape.

"After seeing what you got Duncan for his birthday, we can't wait to see what you come up with for Christmas gifts," Tessa continued. "I'm sure it will be just as creative and unique as your birthday gift."

Startled, Richie stared at Tessa, fork suspended in mid-air. "Um... uh... you'll just have to wait and see," he finally forced out as he slowly lowered the fork back down to his plate. His appetite seemed to have deserted him suddenly. What kind of mess had he gotten himself into this time?

"Is there something wrong, Richie?" Tessa asked, a concerned note in her voice.

"No... I guess I'm just tired." It seemed to take a lot of effort but he picked up his fork and finished his cake. Once done, he carried his plate over to the sink and rinsed it. "I guess I'll turn in now. See you in the morning."

"Good night, Richie," Tessa and Duncan said in unison.

Richie carefully shut his bedroom door behind him before he headed to his closet and pulled out the sack sitting on the shelf. He put the gifts he had bought for Tessa and Duncan on his bed and stared at them. "Unique and creative," he muttered to himself. "I don't think so. What am I gonna do now?"

Going to his dresser, he pulled out the little tin box that he kept his money in. Duncan had been trying to convince him to open a savings account but there was something about knowing that the money was there where he could get it any time of the day or night that seemed so... so comforting. Not that he had much money right now. Between the birthday gift and Christmas gifts, his supply was sorely depleted. And of course another contributing factor to his money woes was the mugging that had happened just before Thanksgiving. He had recovered his memory, his wallet and his watch, but not the money that the creep had ripped off. He had never had the nerve to tell Mac just how much had been taken-not wanting to receive a lecture on carrying that much cash around. He had learned his lesson the hard way.

Taking the cash box to the bed, he carefully counted out his money. Twenty-eight dollars. Plus whatever spare change he had in his pocket. It was a woefully small amount. Especially when he had two people to buy more gifts for.

"It's your own fault, Ryan," he berated himself. "You had to buy the nightgown didn't you? She probably wore it five minutes max. Maybe I could take it back..." Even as he said it, he knew he could never get away with it.

From the minute he'd seen the nightgown in that store window, he hadn't been able to get it out of his mind. He had originally just planned on giving them the twenty-four hours alone, but he knew that the nightgown would make the time special. Even the price tag hadn't caused him to change his mind. Now they would be expecting something special for Christmas and he had no idea what to get them that would qualify.

Richie gave a deep sigh. Well, there was nothing he could do tonight. Tomorrow he would have to hit the shops and see what he could find. He swept the gifts back into their bag and the money back into the tin before putting them away. A wave of exhaustion rolled through him and he quickly stripped off his jeans and shirt before he climbed under the covers and fell asleep.

* HL * * HL * * HL * * HL *

December 23, 1992

Richie set off an his shopping expedition shortly after breakfast. When the teenager had emerged from his room, Mac was sitting in the living room reading the book that some Immortal priest from Paris had sent him for a birthday gift. That gave him the idea of buying him a book for a Christmas present-an *old* book-something unique. After all, Mac was into antiques and things like that.

Richie remembered seeing a used book store when he had been shopping for Mac's birthday present, so he headed there, first thing.

* HL * * HL * * HL * * HL * * HL *

"Oh, no," Joe Dawson muttered as he saw who had come into his book store. "What do I do now?"

"What's the matter, Joe?" Adam Pierson asked. He had flown in to Seacouver the day before to look at some old journals, circa 1800, that Joe had discovered at a flea market. They had references to a man coming back from the dead and his boss in Paris had asked Adam to help figure out which Immortal had been involved.

"The kid that just came in... His name is Ryan and he was taken in by MacLeod a few months ago. I can't let him see me here in case he spots me hanging around the antique store while I'm watching MacLeod."

"MacLeod? You mean Duncan MacLeod?" Adam felt a stirring of interest. He had read some of the Highlander's chronicles.

Joe nodded. "The kid tried to break into MacLeod's antique store and then later saw a sword battle and a Quickening when MacLeod took Slan Quince's head. We think MacLeod took the kid in to keep him quiet."

"Tell you what, Joe. Why don't I go wait on the kid? Since I only do research, there shouldn't be a problem with him remembering me."

"Thanks, Adam. I'd appreciate that." Joe grinned in relief.

Adam went downstairs and walked up to the teenager. As soon as he got closer, he knew why MacLeod had taken the kid in-he was Pre-immortal. Of course, he couldn't tell Joe that without blowing his own cover. As far as Joe and the Watcher organization were concerned, he was Adam Pierson, mild-mannered Watcher. They had no idea he was really Methos, a five-thousand-year-old Immortal.

"Hello," Adam said. "Can I help you find something?"

"Um... I'm looking for a book for a friend, but I don't have any idea what to buy."

"Why don't you tell me what your friend likes-hobbies and so forth-and maybe I can come up with some ideas."

"Well... he runs an antique store and he's *really* into swords... oh, and he... his family is from Scotland."

Adam struggled to keep the grin off his face. This was just too good to be true. The kid was obviously shopping for MacLeod himself. This could be fun. "Hmmm..." he replied. "Let's see what we can find." He led Richie towards a display case and started scanning the book titles.

"How about this one-'Sword fighting In Movies'?" When Richie shook his head, Adam moved down to the next cabinet. "Here we go-'Great Scots In History'. Hmmm. Pretty thin book. Or what about this one-'Highlanders-Barbarians Or Warriors'?"

"I don't think so." Richie shuddered.

"Fine. How about 'Men In Kilts-An In-depth Study of What They Wear Under Them'? Or here's one that could be handy to have-'1001 Uses For A Kilt'."

"Ummm. Why don't I just look around for a while on my own?" Richie suggested. This guy wasn't being very much help.

"Sure. If you have any questions, just yell."

Richie wandered around the store, carefully looking over the various shelves and cases of books. His mind felt like it was spinning in circles before he spotted it-'Legends Of The Scottish Highlands'. It sounded like the perfect book for Mac. Who knows, the Highlander might even be in it. The teenager pulled the book off the shelf and looked through it. It was in very good condition and it was big. Big was always good. It made it seem like you were getting more that way.

Richie headed for the counter where the sales clerk was lounging. "I think I'd like this one," he said. "How much is it?"

Adam took the book from Richie's hands. "Let me look it up for you." He typed something into a nearby computer before turning back to the youth. "This is a real bargain. It's only two hundred dollars."

Richie felt his mouth drop open. "Two... two *hundred* dollars?" his voice squeaked out. "I thought this was a used book store! I could buy at least ten new books for that much money!"

"I'm sorry," Adam said, while trying to hide a grin. "You must have misunderstood. This is an antique book store. If your friend runs an antique shop, surely you understand what that means as far as costs are concerned."

"I... I guess so. I can't..." Richie swallowed hard so that he could force the words out. "I can't afford that much. I guess I'll have to go somewhere else. Sorry to take up your time."

"No problem," Adam replied. "Have a nice day and come back soon," he tacked on as Richie headed for the door.

"Yeah, right," Richie muttered as he opened the door.

Once Richie was safely out of sight, Adam headed back up the stairs to the loft of the store. "It's safe, Joe. He's gone."

"Thanks a lot, Adam. It was a good thing you were here. I'm going to have to get some more help here just in case this happens again."

"Glad to be of assistance. Actually, I quite enjoyed it. Now shall we get back to that journal?"

* HL * * HL *

Richie slowly walked down the street away from the bookstore, eyes downcast, hands shoved deep into his coat pockets. What an idiot he had been. How could he have missed the fact that the store carried antique books? It was there-clear as a bell-on the store-front window. Antique books. He would have never gone into the store if he had seen that first.

Reaching the bus stop, Richie slumped down onto the bench to wait. He had no idea what to do next. He could already picture Mac and Tessa's disappointed faces when they opened their gifts from him. Maybe he should... A hard thump on his shoulder interrupted his thoughts and he quickly spun around, hands up, ready to defend himself.

"Boy, let a guy win one monopoly tournament and suddenly he forgets all his friends. You walked right by me, Richie, without saying a word!"

Richie lowered his fists and grinned at the spitfire standing next to him. "Hey, Angie. Sorry about that. My mind was a million miles away. I didn't even see you."

"It looked more like your mind was in the dumps. What's wrong, Richie?" Angie asked as she sat down next to him.

Richie sighed. "I'm in a big mess, Angie. I told you about the gifts I gave Mac for his birthday, right?" When she nodded, he continued. "Well, now Mac and Tessa are expecting something 'unique and different' for Christmas and I'm almost broke. I don't suppose you could loan me some money until my next payday?" He looked at her hopefully.

Angie laughed. "You must be kidding. I don't make very much at the shelter as it is, and with it being Christmas time... Well, I'm just about broke, too."

"Thanks anyway."

"I thought you had already bought their gifts?"

"I did, but they just aren't very much. I'm sure they're gonna be disappointed."

"Richie, it's the thought that counts. If they're disappointed because you didn't spend a lot for gifts, then I say who needs them!"

"No, I'm sure that the cost would never be the issue with them. They know I can't afford that much. It's just that they're expecting something..."

"Unique and different?" she asked with an understanding smile.

Richie nodded his head. "I was going to buy a book for Mac, but what I thought was a used book store turned out to be an antique book store instead. Now I'm back to square one without any ideas."

Angie punched him in the arm again. "Only you could make that mistake, Ryan. I do know that there's a used book store over on Palmer street. Maybe you should try there."

"Thanks, Ange. I'll try that. Do you have any ideas about a gift for Tessa? What would a woman consider unique?"

Angie thought about it for a moment. "I have an idea. I was reading an article in this magazine, while I was getting my hair done last week..." She quickly told Richie about it. "You'd have to change it somewhat, but I bet it would work."

Richie nodded as he thought it over. "Yeah... that could work. Angie, you're a doll!"

"Of course. See you around, Richie." With a wave, Angie headed down the street to her motorcycle.

A few moments later, the bus pulled up and Richie climbed on board. It took several transfers before he reached Palmer street. There he found the book store that Angie had told him about. Forty-five minutes of searching produced a book he could afford and the sales clerk assured him it would be the perfect gift.

Richie wished he could have afforded the other book. The one he ended up buying was so small, it fit in his coat pocket. It didn't look like much. He gave a deep sigh. It would have to do.

Looking around, the teenager noticed that the street was filled with various types of gift shops. It wouldn't hurt to look in a few of them to see if he could find something else for Tessa. But first things first. If he was going to do some extensive shopping, he would need sustenance to keep going. Spotting a pretzel shop, Richie headed across the street and soon was munching away on a giant pretzel.

With his stomach appeased for the moment, Richie took a deep breath and plunged into the first store. Ten stores and three hours later, he paid for his second purchase. Checking his change, the teenager realized he had enough money left to buy a chili dog in celebration.

Back at the bus stop, Richie huddled into his coat. It seemed colder than when he had left home that morning and, looking up, he could see clouds starting to fill the sky. Maybe it would snow for Christmas. Tessa really wanted a white Christmas. Too bad he couldn't arrange that. That would be a gift that she would love.

A motorcycle pulled up next to the bus stop. The rider flipped up his visor and looked in Richie's direction. "Hey, Ryan," he called. "Where's your ride, man?"

"Hey, Tim. My wheels are out of action for a while. Have to take public transportation until I can score enough to get it fixed." Richie walked over to his old buddy.

"Bummer, man. Hey, if you're short on dough, I know someone who might take the bike off your hands-even if it's not running. He's been looking for that model for a long time."

"How much do you think he'd give me for it?" Richie asked, tempted by the idea. If he sold the bike, he'd have more money to spend on presents for Mac and Tessa.

"Hard to say, man. Why don't you call me later today if you decide you want to sell it. I'll track him down and see what he's willing to spend. What's wrong with it?"

Richie filled him in. "But with a few parts, it will be up and running in no time at all."

"Yeah, but those parts don't come cheap, Rich. Well, let me see what I can find out. Later, man."

Richie watched his friend ride away, before returning to the bench. He had very mixed emotions about selling his bike. On the one hand, he didn't want to lose the bike-it represented freedom for him-to be able to go anywhere he wanted or take off anytime he wanted. Of course, it *did* have to work first. On the other hand, selling it would mean he could buy something nice for the two most important people in his life.

Spotting the bus heading for the stop, Richie stood and carefully checked to make sure he still had his purchases. During the long trip back to the antique store, he kept arguing with himself over what to do about the bike. He wished that he knew whether Mac and Tessa were going to give him the spare parts he needed for Christmas. They would probably be really mad if they did and he had already sold the bike.

* HL * * HL * * HL *

When Richie got back to the store, he dropped his coat and the packages off in his room. He could hear voices coming from Mac and Tessa's room, so he headed for the antique store office, deciding to use the computer while they were otherwise occupied. The machine was already powered on, the screen saver filling the screen. The teenager hit the enter key to see what was executing. He didn't recognize the software-it wasn't something that Mac had shown him so far.

The youth started pressing keys, trying to shut down the program, but nothing seemed to work. Eventually, every key he pressed caused a beeping sound.

"Well, guess it's time for emergency repair procedure number seven," Richie said to himself with a grin. He reached out and hit the reset button. A few moments later the screen he was familiar with appeared and Richie launched the word processor.

"Let's see..." With determination, Richie started typing in his usual hunt-and-peck, two-fingered style.

"Richie! What are you doing!"

The teenager jumped, startled by the unexpected words. He hadn't even heard anyone come into the office. Looking up, Richie stared into a very irate face. "Hey, Mac. What's wrong?" he asked, even as he tried to hide the few words he had managed to key in.

"Please tell me you saved my data." Duncan waved the youth out of the chair, sat down and frantically started typing.

"Um... did I do something wrong?" Richie knew what the answer would be, but he had to ask anyway.

"It's gone! My whole morning's work is gone." Duncan spun around in the chair and glared at the teenager. "I spent the entire morning inputting tax information and in just a few moments, you've lost it all!"

Richie swallowed hard. "I'm... I'm sorry, Mac. I didn't know... I tried to shut it down, but it just kept beeping at me. So I hit the reset button. I've seen you do that before," he defended himself. He couldn't keep looking at Mac, so he decided to stare at his feet instead. He had really messed up this time. "I'll type it all back in if you show me how. No matter how long it takes."

Duncan sighed. "That's all right, Richie. I should have saved the data before I left my desk. It won't take me as long to key it back in since part of the time was spent getting the data organized. And you're right, I have used the reset button many times myself."

"I'm really sorry, Mac," Richie said again. "I won't ever touch the computer again."

"That's not the issue here, Richie. I'm really glad you are learning how to use the computer, and feel comfortable enough with it to try things on your own. Just, next time, if you don't understand what's on the screen, find me and ask first, before resetting."

"I will," Richie promised. "Can I help you put the data back in? Maybe read the numbers off to you or something?"

While Mac thought about it, Richie fidgeted. The last thing he wanted was to have the Highlander mad at him *before* Christmas. If that happened, he might as well just throw the gifts he had bought into the trash can. They weren't that great to start with.

"Sure, Richie. Let's give it a try. It just might help. By the way, what *were* you doing on the computer?"

"Nothing," Richie quickly replied before pulling another chair up to the desk. He reached past the Immortal and shut down the word processor, canceling his changes. He would just have to make do with the gifts he already had.

"Nothing, hmmm?" Duncan asked with a smile. "Typing up some more gifts, by any chance?"

Richie threw him a startled look. "What do you mean?"

"Like your birthday present. You know... twenty-four hours alone."

"Uhhh... no, not exactly." Richie paused for a moment. "Do you want more time alone, without me here?" he finally asked, keeping his gaze down, looking at his hands as if checking for any minute trace of dirt. "I'm sure I can find a place to crash if you want more privacy. Or... or I could find a place of my own if you want me to." Richie really wanted to rub his suddenly stinging eyes, but he didn't want Mac to think he was upset or crying or anything like that. He must have just gotten something in his eyes.

Duncan sighed. "Richie, look at me." He waited for the youth to look up before continuing. "I was *not* asking you to give us more time alone. We like having you around. What made your birthday present so special was that it *was* special-if that makes any sense. If you were always staying away all the time, it wouldn't have been much of a gift, would it?"

Richie thought about that for a moment. "No, I guess it wouldn't. But, if you ever want me to disappear for a while or to...to move out, just say the word."

"Deal. Now can we get to work?"

For two hours, Richie read off numbers, until he thought he would go crazy. "Mac, we need to take a break here. I think I'm starting to lose my voice," he pleaded, clutching at his throat dramatically.

"Now that would make a nice Christmas gift-Richie with no voice," Duncan teased.

"Ha! The place would be so quiet, you wouldn't know what to do," Richie retorted. "Please, Mac! Just a five minute break. That's all I'm asking for."

"Sure, Richie. Let me save the data first-so that it won't get lost again." Duncan threw a grin over at the teenager. "And then we'll go get something to drink. We're almost done. I'd think it should only take about fifteen more minutes."

"Great. I'll probably have nightmares about numbers chasing me around." Richie grinned as he followed Duncan towards the kitchen. Once there, he headed straight for the refrigerator, pulled a can of soda out, popped the top, and took a long swallow. "Ahhh, that feels good."

Richie watched as Duncan put water on to heat to make himself a cup of tea. "Hey, Mac. I... I need to know something."

"What?" Duncan asked absentmindedly as he pulled a mug out of the cupboard.

"Tessa made a comment about my getting the parts I need for my bike for Christmas. I really need to know if I am because... because I know someone who might sell me what I need." It wasn't really a lie, Richie consoled himself. He did know someone who would sell him the parts-if he had them.

Duncan stopped what he was doing and frowned at the youth. "Richie, I don't want to spoil your Christmas. Surely this person can wait a few more days."

"Uhhhh... no, he... uhhh... needs to know today. He...uhhhh... has someone else who wants to buy them, too."

"I thought you didn't have the money to buy the parts yet. Why do I get the feeling that you aren't telling me the truth?"

Richie could feel heat flood his face. Why did Mac always know when he wasn't being truthful? It just wasn't fair.

"Richie, you're just going to have to wait until Christmas to find out what you're getting," Duncan said, an amused grin on his face. "But I'll give you points for a good try. You were much more subtle than Tessa usually is. She's been trying to find out what her gifts are for weeks already. I'm not going to tell either of you."

The teenager sighed. Well, it had been worth a try. And Mac didn't know why he was asking either. Maybe he would try Tessa next. She could never say no whenever he turned his pleading eyes on her.

"And don't go trying to find out from Tessa, either," Duncan warned. "Or Santa Claus may just leave you a lump of coal." With that, he turned back to his tea-making.

Richie knew that there was no way that he could sell the bike now. It was pretty obvious that they must have gotten him the parts after all. If not, Mac wouldn't have hesitated telling him.

After finishing their drinks, Duncan and Richie returned to their work. Twenty minutes later, Richie put his pencil down with a sigh. "Finished! Do you need me for anything else?"

"No. That should do it, Richie. Thanks for helping."

"Well, since I lost the data in the first place..."

"Yes, but you also helped me put in the rest of the data as well. I wasn't done this morning. That's why I left it sitting there. But now I'm finished, thanks to your help. I even have time to run out and do a few errands today, after all." A knock at the front door interrupted him. "Could you see who that is, Richie? I'm going to go get my coat."

"Sure, Mac." Richie went into the antique store. Unlocking the door, he opened it to find the mailman standing there. "Can I help you?"

"Hi. I have a package here for a..." the mailman looked at the label, "Duncan MacLeod. But there's postage due on it. Normally, we would send it back, but there was no return label."

"Sure, no problem. How much is it?" he asked. After paying the mailman, Richie took the box in to the living quarters. "Hey, Mac. This package just came for you. I took the postage out of petty cash."

Duncan took the package and looked it over carefully. "I wonder who it's from."

"Well, you could open it and find out," Richie suggested impatiently.

The Highlander grinned, but set about opening the package. Inside he found a book and a letter. He opened the letter first.

The youth positioned himself to read over Mac's shoulder. There wasn't much to it, just birthday greetings, followed by a plea for investment money from Mac. That he had a sure thing, guaranteed to have high returns, and he wanted to share it with his friends. It was signed Benny. "Who's Benny?" Richie questioned.

"Richie! Don't you know better than to read someone else's mail?" He reached out to swat the teenager, but Richie ducked in time. "Trust me, you don't want to have anything to do with this guy. I hate to call him a friend... nuisance is more like it. It figures that Benny's birthday gift would be late *and* cost me money." Duncan picked up the book and looked at the title before starting to laugh. "How appropriate. 'How To Cheat At Poker And Not Get Caught.'"

"Really? That might be interesting to read," Richie said, thinking over the possibilities. "Can I borrow it when you're done?"

"Don't even think about it, Rich. Something like this will only get you in trouble."

Richie turned his most innocent expression on the Immortal. "I wasn't planning on trying it. It... it will help me spot if someone else is cheating-if I ever play poker. Not that I would of course, but just in case..."

Duncan laughed. "I think I'll just take this along with me now, and remove the temptation. See you later, Richie." With that, he grabbed his coat and headed for the back door.

With nothing else to do, Richie decided to tackle the chore of wrapping his gifts. The lingerie store had wrapped the birthday gift he had purchased and Angie had helped him wrap the other birthday gift for Mac, but he had watched closely. There wasn't anything to it. He quickly gathered what he needed-tape from the office, a sharp knife from the kitchen, and empty boxes from the storeroom-before retreating to his bedroom.

He carefully packed his gifts into boxes first, then fetched the wrapping paper he had bought. He carefully measured out the first piece, creased the paper, and ran the knife along the edge. It was a little ragged, but it wasn't bad either. "Piece of cake," he declared with a smile. "Maybe I should hire myself out as a gift wrapper."

He wrapped the paper around the box, and reached for the tape with one hand while holding the paper in place with the other. Struggling with the dispenser, he finally managed to rip off a piece, and affix it to the paper. Unfortunately, the paper was no longer tightly wrapped around the box. He pried at the tape, trying to lift if off so he could fix it, but managed to tear the paper in the process. He pulled the paper off, crumpled it up, and pitched it at the wastebasket. His second try looked a lot better. Now came the tough part, doing the ends. He pushed the paper down over the edge, only to have it rip again. Cursing this time, he once again sent the paper flying towards the wastebasket.

It took him several more tries but he finally got the first package wrapped to his satisfaction. It didn't look as nice as the package that Angie had wrapped, but it was the best he could do. The only problem was, he was almost out of wrapping paper, and the floor was littered with his errors. And he still had three more packages to do.

Richie went in search of Tessa. Surely, she would have paper that he could use. If she didn't then he would be in really big trouble, since he had spent the last of his money on the chili dog and bus fare. He couldn't find her anywhere in the loft or the shop, so he looked out the back door and noticed her car was gone.

"Hmmmm. I suppose I could just look around the place, and see if I could find some paper," he said to himself. "And if I should happen to find some gifts along the way, well, that wouldn't be my fault."

Richie started off looking in the storeroom, before moving into Tessa's workshop, and then on to the hallway closet. He didn't bother checking the store itself-there wasn't any place to hide something out there. That left him standing in front of Duncan and Tessa's bedroom door. Guiltily, he glanced up and down the hallway, before opening the door. Even knowing there was nobody in sight, he still had to steel himself to open the door.

Looking around the room, he decided that the obvious place would be the closet. He pulled open the door and felt his mouth drop open at the sight of the wrapped packages stashed there.

"Richie! What are you doing in here?" a female voice startled him.

The teenager spun around and saw Tessa standing in the doorway. "Ummm... Hey, Tessa... ummmm... you wouldn't have any extra wrapping paper would you?" He tried to summon up a smile but just knew that it was a poor imitation of his usual expression.

Tessa eyed him for several long moments, while Richie started wishing the floor would open up and swallow him. Finally, she moved to the closet as well, and pulled a box out of it, before firmly shutting the door. "Is there anything else you need?" she questioned as she handed over the box. "Tape, ribbon, bows?"

"No. I have all that. I just ran out of paper. Thanks, Tessa." Richie fled the scene before she could say anything else.

By the time Richie had finished wrapping the last package, he had started to get the hang of it. He only ruined one piece of paper on that gift. Looking at the overflowing wastebasket, he sighed, and went to empty it into the trash bin out back. As he passed through the living room, he saw Tessa sitting on the couch, looking through a magazine. She didn't say anything until he returned.

"Richie, our room is off limits until after Christmas. Do you understand?" she questioned with a frown.

"Yes, Tessa. I'm sorry... but I really needed some wrapping..." He stopped when he could see that she wasn't buying that story.

"You're forgiven, Richie," she said with a smile. "I guess I can't blame you. I've been looking for my gifts from Duncan, too. I just can't figure out where he hides them." She looked over at the teenager with a speculative gleam in her eyes. "You aren't hiding them in *your* room, are you?"

"No way, Tessa. But you can come and check it out for yourself if you want to," he offered.

"No. That's all right. I'll take your word on it. Why don't you come over here and sit down." She patted the couch by her side.

Feeling like he was walking into a snake pit, Richie went over and gingerly sat down.

"So, Richie, has Duncan told you what he bought me for Christmas? You can give me a hint, right?"

"Uhhhh..." Richie stopped and swallowed hard under her intense gaze. "He hasn't told me anything, Tessa. Honest!"

"Stop pumping Richie for information, Tessa. He doesn't know anything." Duncan's amused voice entered the conversation.

Tessa jumped to her feet, going over and hugging the Immortal. "I was just looking for a hint, Duncan. That's all." She ran her hand up and down his arm.

Duncan just laughed. "No. We go through this every year, Tessa. You have to wait for Christmas."

"Why don't we go to our bedroom and discuss this some more," she suggested.

Richie watched her pull Mac down the hallway and shook his head. If that had been him, he would have spilled the beans long ago. He was really glad that he had no clue what the Immortal had bought his love.

Now that he had time to think, Richie's mind went back to the stash of gifts he had found. He had no idea how many of them were for him-some of them had to be for Mac. But what if they had bought him a lot of gifts? He only had two for each of them. He was definitely going to have to use Angie's suggestion after all.

With a deep sigh, Richie fetched a pad of paper from the office and retreated to his room. When Tessa knocked on the door to tell him that dinner was almost ready, his floor was, once again, littered with crumpled paper. Disheartened at his lack of success, the teenager headed for the dining room.

Halfway through the meal, Tessa's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Richie, is there something wrong? Don't you feel well? You've been so quiet." Duncan snickered. "And you're complaining, Tessa?"

Richie looked up from his plate in time to see Tessa glare at Duncan. "No. I'm fine, Tessa." A sudden thought crossed his mind as a way out of his trouble. "It's just that I've been invited to spend Christmas with some friends and I was trying to figure out how to tell you." This would work. He'd disappear for the day and when he got home, they would have opened his gifts. He wouldn't have to see the disappointment on their faces as they did so. By the time he got home, they'd have gotten over it-or at least managed to hide their disappointment.

"But, Richie... This is our first Christmas together," Tessa protested.

Richie felt like a heel when he saw the look on Tessa's face. He hated to continue lying, but it was for her own good-well, maybe it was for *his* own good. "I'm sorry, Tessa. It's just that I... I've spent the last few Christmases with them."

"I understand, Richie," Tessa said, her disappointment still evident.

"We can celebrate Christmas tomorrow, instead," Duncan suggested. "That way we can still enjoy it together."

"No! You don't have to do that," Richie said, totally panicked. Somehow his plan was backfiring. "You don't need to change your plans just for me. It's not the same if you open your presents early. I can wait until Christmas night for my gifts, but you don't have to."

"Richie, half of the fun of Christmas is watching each other open gifts," Duncan explained.

Fun. Yeah, right. "Okay. I can skip going to my friends."

"We don't want you to have to do that, Richie," Tessa said. "Like Duncan said, we can just celebrate a little early."

"That's all right. It's no big deal. I...I can go see them later in the day." Richie figured that if things got bad enough on Christmas day, he at least would have a way of escaping for a while.

"Well, if you're sure..."

"Yeah, Tessa. I'm sure." Deciding that he was done eating, Richie stood and carried his plate over to the sink. Turning the water on, he rinsed it, before starting on the other dishes sitting in the sink.

"All right, Richie. Now, I'm *positive* that something's wrong. What is it?" Tessa asked with a frown.

Richie looked back at the table where she was still sitting. "What?"

"It's not your night to do dishes. What's wrong?"

Richie could feel himself flush. "Nothing's wrong, Tessa. I guess I just didn't think about what night it was. Count it as my good deed for the day."

That earned a laugh from Duncan. "Or maybe you're trying to score some brownie points. Maybe you're afraid of getting that lump of coal after all."

"I wouldn't laugh, if I were you," Tessa scolded him. "You could stand to earn a few brownie points yourself."

Duncan leered at Tessa. "How about if I give you a massage? Will that earn me some points?"

"Oh, it might..." she replied with a lofty air. "It depends on how good it is..."

With a growl, Duncan pounced on her, lifting her into his arms. "I'll show you good."

Richie watched as they headed towards their bedroom, smiling and shaking his head. Those two never quit. He finished the dishes, then headed to his room, some new ideas having popped into his head. It would be a risk but, hopefully, they wouldn't get too upset about it. He scribbled away for several hours before deciding that he had the finished product. All that was left was to key it into the computer and print out nice copies.

Glancing at the clock, he decided it could wait until tomorrow. However, he could hear that birthday cake calling his name, all the way from the kitchen. With a grin, he decided a little snack would finish the day off right.

* HL * * HL *

December 24, 1992

When Richie emerged from his bedroom the next morning, he thought he had stumbled into another dimension. The entire living room area was covered with boxes, many opened to display bright, glittery contents. Garland was strewn over every piece of furniture in sight. Mac was wrestling with something, cursing under his breath. Strangely-shaped green things surrounded him. He looked up as the teenager approached.

"Richie! You're just in time. I need some help putting this Christmas tree together. I can't understand how something that should be so easy to do could turn out to be so difficult."

"I'd hate to ruin your fun, Mac." Richie grinned at the sight. "Why don't you read the instructions?"

"Very funny, Mr. Wiseguy. Tessa accidentally burned the instructions in the fireplace last year. I managed to get the tree down, but now it won't go back up."

"Well, enjoy yourself, Mac. I'll see you around after this mess is all cleared up."

"C'mon, Richie, where's your Christmas spirit?"

"I left it in my other pants. Bah, humbug."

"Richie," the Immortal growled. "Get over here and help."

Sensing the end of Mac's patience, Richie waded through the boxes and greenery to help. He spent a few minutes studying the different parts before realizing what the problem was. "Umm... I think you have the post upside down, Mac," he said, trying unsuccessfully to keep from snickering. "Of course, I could be wrong," he added when the Immortal glowered at him.

Mumbling under his breath, Mac disassembled the tree stand and put it back together again-right side up. Together they inserted the branches, and soon the tree was ready for ornaments.

"Why don't you get a real tree, Mac?" Richie asked. "Somehow a fake tree just doesn't seem your style."

"Tessa and I decided last year that chopping down a tree for a few days of enjoyment was almost a crime. So, instead, we bought this thing." He waved at the tree. "It's not quite the same, but we're saving nature's resources."

"If you say so." Richie wandered into the kitchen and started searching through cupboards looking for something to eat for breakfast. "So what's on the agenda today?" he called back over his shoulder.

"Not too much. We always have our celebration meal on Christmas Eve-that way we don't have to spend all Christmas day in the kitchen," Duncan explained. "We'll have plenty of leftovers-at least I hope so. We've never had someone with your appetite eating with us before."

"Very funny, Mac." Richie glared at the grinning Immortal.

"I should warn you that there's something about Christmas Eve that always gets Tessa going. She'll be running around all day, either singing or humming Christmas carols, draping garland and tinsel over everything in sight, baking up a storm of Christmas goodies, and so forth. It's almost frightening at times."

"Yeah, right."

"Okay, don't believe me-just remember I warned you." Duncan wagged a finger at the young man. "And then tonight, she'll really get wound up during the decorating of the Christmas tree. Just wait and see."

"In that case, I'd better get busy on my own little project. Can I use the computer?"

"Sure, Richie. Knock yourself out. I won't need it today at all."

"Thanks, Mac." Richie fixed himself some cereal for breakfast. After eating, he retrieved his pad of paper from his bedroom and headed for the office. Throughout the rest of the morning, he heard carols coming from the apartment, accompanied occasionally by the soft French lilt of Tessa's voice. Wonderful smells kept drifting in, tempting him to leave his task, but he persevered. He took a brief break at lunchtime, carefully saving his work after yesterday's fiasco.

One look at the kitchen sent him scurrying back to the sanity of the office once he had his sandwich made. Granted, the stacks of freshly baked cookies, breads and other goodies were a strong enticement to stay. But just about every bowl, pan, and mixing spoon that they owned appeared to have been crammed into the sink or set on the counter top by it, and Tessa was furiously beating some concoction while humming to herself.

By late afternoon, Richie had his typing done and printed out. It didn't take him long to cut the papers up into strips, each with one item listed on it. The final step was placing them in envelopes, labeling one with Tessa's name and the other with Mac's. The plain white envelope looked so boring that he decided to put a bow on each envelope as well-it made them look more festive.

Returning to the kitchen, the teenager spotted Mac elbow-deep in dishwater. "What a sight," he claimed with a huge grin. "The mighty Highlander washing dishes. Tell me, Mac... is it difficult to hold a sword with dishpan hands?"

"They say experience is the best teacher, Richie. Why don't you come over here and find out for yourself?"

"No, Mac, I couldn't do that. Why, this is obviously some kind of Christmas tradition around here. And you wouldn't want me to ruin tradition, now, would you?"

"Richie, there you are!" Tessa exclaimed as she came into the kitchen carrying a tablecloth. "I need you to help me set the table. Start getting out the good china and silver-and be careful!"

"Yes, Tessa." Richie pitched in and helped, ignoring the snickers that came from Mac.

* HL * * HL *

Replete from the wonderful feast, they returned the kitchen to its normal pristine condition before moving to the living room, egg nog in hand. Christmas carols played softly on the stereo and the fire, burning cheerily in the fireplace, added the perfect touch.

"So what's next?" Richie asked.

"Now Tessa plays artiste with the Christmas tree. For the next hour or so, she'll tweak and twitch branches until she's happy with the shape. Only then will she allow us to put a single light or decoration on the tree."

"I'll tweak and twitch you, if you're not careful, Duncan," she warned with a smile. "I'm not that bad."

"Promises, promises," the Immortal returned, pulling her into a quick hug.

"Oh, you..." She slapped him lightly on the arm. "Richie, come give me a hand."

The young man worked hard to follow her instructions, turning the tree this way or that way, bending branches up or down. Finally, Tessa announced that she was satisfied.

"I misjudged you," Duncan claimed from his comfortable seat on the couch. "It only took you forty-five minutes."

"Ignore him, Richie. He's just jealous because he didn't get to help. Next comes the lights."

Duncan decided to join in the fun, and the three of them decorated the tree. Good-natured arguing filled the room as the best place for each ornament was debated. Once the decorating was completed, Richie helped move the now-empty boxes back to the storeroom, out of the way. Coming back to the living room, he stood and stared at the tree.

Tessa moved over to his side and wrapped an arm around his waist. "Do you like it, Richie?" she asked.

"It's beautiful, Tessa," he choked out. Realizing that things were getting emotional, he cleared his throat quickly. "It's absolutely, positively, the most wonderful tree I've ever seen. Why, I bet we could charge admission for people to see this tree. In fact, I think we should take a picture and send it to those home decorating magazines. This time next year, every house will try to make a tree just like this."

"I think he likes it," Duncan said wryly.

Tessa didn't reply, she just gave Richie a hug before glancing over at the clock. "Look at the time," she exclaimed. "I can't believe it's after 11:00 already. Off to bed now, Richie. You don't want to keep Santa Claus waiting."

"Give me a break," the youth protested. "Enough already with the Santa Claus comments. It's not like I'm a kid or anything."

"I'm sorry, Richie," Tessa said. "I was only teasing."

The teenager gave her a quick hug. "I know. I'm the one who's sorry. If it makes you happy, you can make all the Santa Claus comments you want. But I draw the line at Rudolph-no reindeer comments what-so-ever. Deal?"

Duncan laughed. "Deal. One more thing-I'd better not hear the pitter-patter of feet out here tonight. Package rattling has to wait until the morning. And that goes for both of you."

Tessa stuck her tongue out at him. "I was just getting a glass of milk last year."

"Funny, that package that you had half opened didn't look like a milk jug to me."

"I tripped over it and the paper ripped. If *you* had put the package under the tree where it belonged, it wouldn't have happened."

Wishing them both a good night, Richie headed for his room, leaving them arguing over what exactly Tessa had been doing the previous year. For a while tonight, he had managed to not think about the gifts. Now it came crashing in on him, again. Doubting that he would ever sleep, the teenager still crawled into bed and turned the light out. No reason to let Mac and Tessa know that he was still awake.

* HL * * HL *

December 25, 1992

Richie looked at the clock twice. It couldn't be 8:00-he'd just gone to bed. Despite his misgivings, he had managed to fall asleep after all. Loath to start the gift exchange, he decided to stay in bed and remain as quiet as possible. If they thought he was still sleeping, they'd leave him alone.

He managed it for almost fifteen minutes before his bladder announced that it was time for him to get up. He fought against the growing urge for another five minutes before giving in. As he came out of the bathroom, he heard a tap on the door. Opening it, he found Mac standing in the hallway.

"Merry Christmas, Richie. It's about time you woke up. I'm having a hard time keeping Tessa away from the packages. Toss on your robe and come on out."

"Can't I take a shower first?" A nice, long shower, he thought, stalling for more time.

Duncan frowned. "I suppose I can keep Tessa occupied for a little while longer. But hurry it up."

Richie stayed in the shower as long as he could, but eventually the hot water ran out. And there was a limit to how long he could fuss with his hair-despite any claims to the contrary by Mac. Running out of options, Richie emerged from his room. The first thing that met his eyes was the pile of packages stacked under the tree. He almost groaned at the sight.

"Merry Christmas, Richie," Tessa said from the couch.

For a moment he felt like responding 'bah, humbug', but he managed to squelch the impulse. "Merry Christmas," he replied.

"I think if you had taken any longer getting out here, Richie, Tessa would have come in there and dragged you out-dressed or not," Duncan joked.

Tessa slapped him lightly. "Hush. Are you ready to open packages, Richie?" she asked with a smile.

"Ummm. Actually, I'm kind of hungry... Can we have breakfast first?" Stall. Stall.

"Of course, Richie," Tessa said with a disappointed look. "If that's what you want."

They stood up and headed for the kitchen, the Immortal giving him a piercing stare as he went by. Richie felt ashamed that he was ruining Tessa's Christmas. "No, that's all right. I can wait."

"No, Richie. It won't take long. We're just having coffee cake. You're probably right. This way we can take our time opening the packages without having to worry about getting hungry."

Mumbling that he would be right back, the teenager went to his room and retrieved his packages. He struggled with the best place to put them. If they opened his first, it would be over and done with. Maybe the rest of the gifts would cause them to forget about his. On the other hand, if they were opened last, maybe they would already be in such a good mood that they wouldn't care. With a sigh, he buried the presents at the back of the tree before joining the couple in the kitchen.

Sitting down at the table, the young man reached for a slice of coffee cake. He couldn't miss the longing glances Tessa was sending towards the Christmas tree and felt like a total jerk. Knowing that he'd never get a bite of food down his throat, he started crumbling the coffee cake up with his fingers.

When a hand came out to stop his destruction of the food, he looked up, startled to find Mac and Tessa gazing at him with concerned faces.

"What's wrong, Richie? And don't say nothing," Duncan insisted. "Is this because you're not spending the day with your friends?"

"What... what do you mean?" he finally forced out.

"We can tell that you're unhappy or upset about something, Richie," Tessa pointed out. "We just don't know why. Have we done something-or not done something? I wanted this Christmas to be so special for you, but you've almost been acting like you wish the whole thing would go away."

Richie could feel the heat flush his face and he stared down at the plate in front of him.

"Tell us," Duncan said. "No matter what it is, it can't be that bad."

"I don't want you to be disappointed," Richie finally mumbled, refusing to look up.

"Disappointed with what?" Tessa asked gently. He heard the scrape of a chair and, a moment later, felt her kneel down beside him.

"With my gifts," he blurted out, relieved to get it out in the open. "I wanted to get you something nice, but I didn't have enough money. And now there's all those gifts under the tree and I know some of them are for me and I didn't get you as many and I know how much you like getting presents and you'll hate what I got you and they're not unique and creative like my birthday gift for Mac was and you'll get that disappointed look on your face and then I'll hate myself even more and...and now I've ruined your Christmas." Having run out breath, Richie shut his mouth.

"You haven't ruined anything-at least not yet," Tessa insisted. "Duncan and I don't care if you spend a lot of money on gifts-if anything, we'd probably be more upset if you did. I know it sounds like a cliche, but it's the thought that counts. I'm sure you spent a lot of time picking out our gifts, didn't you?" She continued when Richie nodded. "Then I'm sure they will be wonderful gifts. Yes, we bought you a lot of things, but a big part of our joy in Christmas is in the giving-not the receiving. We want to see your eyes light up and that wonderful smile of yours when you open your packages. I don't know about Duncan, but seeing you happy, makes me happy."

"I agree, Richie," Duncan said. "And if you're too busy feeling guilty, then we won't enjoy the day half as much. If you really think we'll hate your gifts, then take them back to your room. The only gifts we *need* from you is your happiness and being here with us. So, what do you say? Can you set aside your guilt and just enjoy the day and our gifts to you?"

Richie looked back and forth between the two of them. "I'm sorry. I guess I just let the whole thing get blown out of proportion. I was too busy worrying about things that didn't really matter. My heart knew that you wouldn't care about how much I spent, but my brain wasn't paying attention-if that makes any sense."

"It makes perfect sense, Richie," Tessa said. "Now can we open packages? I've been waiting forever!" she declared plaintively.

Richie and Mac exchanged amused glances. "I don't know, Tessa," Richie said with a straight face. "Do you think Santa Claus left you anything to open? Have you been a good girl this year?" A smile broke forth at the stunned look on her face.

Tessa recovered quickly, while Duncan laughed at her discomfiture. "Of course he did. I've been a *very* good girl this year-unlike certain other people who live here." She threw a damning glance at the Immortal.

"Are you insinuating that I need to work on my technique?" Duncan leered at her. "I haven't heard you complaining."

"Enough, enough. I give up. Let's go open gifts before you two find yourselves back in bed."

Duncan and Tessa exchanged a quick kiss before following Richie back to the living room.

"Richie, why don't you pass out the packages," Duncan suggested as he joined Tessa on the couch. "The only rules are that we have to take turns and the next one isn't handed out until the previous one is opened. Okay?"

"Sure, Mac. I can handle that." The youth knelt down on the floor and scanned the packages under the tree. Picking up the first one, he handed it to the Frenchwoman. "Here you go, Tessa. Since I made you wait so long, you get to open the first one up."

Richie had Tessa pegged as the type of person who carefully opened packages-always trying to keep from tearing the paper. Not so. She eagerly took the box and ripped the paper away in one smooth, practiced move. Taking the lid off of the box, she pushed aside the tissue paper, and pulled out a royal blue cowl-neck sweater dress.

"It's beautiful, Duncan. Thank you." She gave him a kiss.

Richie retrieved another package, this time for Mac. The Immortal opened it and found a CD of Celtic music. Kisses were exchanged again. The teenager next selected a package for himself. Opening the box, he found a copy of 'Cycle World' magazine and a certificate stating that a one-year subscription had been taken out in his name.

"Cool," he said, flipping through the pages. When his name was called a few minutes later, he looked up and saw the couple watching him with amused gazes. "Sorry," he muttered sheepishly. "I guess I can read it later. Thanks."

After a few more gifts had been opened, Richie decided to pass out his first gift to Tessa and Mac-the ones he had originally bought. He watched with bated breath as Tessa opened hers. She pulled out a rolled up piece of velvet, untied the string and smoothed it out flat. The young man could tell she was confused, but trying to hide it.

"It's a jewelry travel bag," he informed her. "Last time you went out of town, you complained because your necklace got all knotted up. This is designed to stop that." Richie crawled over to her side. "See, there's places for earrings and pockets for rings. Then you unsnap this piece and put your bracelets and necklaces on the strap. Finally, you roll it all up and tie it. Poof! No more knotted necklaces." He glanced up at her face anxiously.

"What a wonderful idea," she exclaimed. "Thank you, Richie." She dropped a light kiss on his forehead. "I guess I'll have to go out of town soon so that I can try it out." She threw a teasing look at Duncan.

"I'll see what I can come up with," Duncan replied with an indulgent grin.

Duncan opened his gift from Richie next. "Thank you, Richie. I can really use these," he said as he examined the pen and pencil set. "For some reason, I can never seem to find one when I need it."

"I even had them engraved. See." Richie pointed out the initials DM.

"That's great, Richie. That way when they disappear, I'll know who took them. Let this be a warning, Tessa." When she stuck her tongue out at him, he just smiled.

Happy that his gifts had been well received, he went back to opening gifts with a renewed enthusiasm. Clothing seemed to be the most popular gift for all of them, but there were many other items. For Richie, a wallet (to hold his millions when he struck it rich), an alarm clock (so he'd get up in the morning), and a new pair of boots. Tessa received a new wallet as well, season tickets to the opera, art supplies, and a diamond necklace that matched the bracelet she had received for her birthday. Duncan's loot consisted of a new wallet (they all laughed and joked about great minds), a book, computer software, and an ornamental belt knife, heavily encrusted with jewels.

The only packages remaining were the last four gifts from Richie. He handed Mac and Tessa two of them, holding back the envelopes for the final gift. Mac opened his first.

"'Poetry Of The Highlands-Translated From The Original Gaelic Poems'," Duncan read off the title from the cover before flipping through the pages. Suddenly, his face took on a stunned look.

"What's wrong? Don't you like it?" Richie asked in a panicked voice.

"Nothing's wrong. I just don't believe this. One of the poems is by Connor MacLeod. It's called 'Heather'. Wait until I tell him. This will be worth months, if not years, of fun with him. Thank you, Richie." He spent a few more minutes browsing through the book, Tessa looking over his shoulders. "Actually, these poems are *very* good. I think I'm really going to enjoy reading them."

Tessa turned to her gift. "Ooohh, it's heavy," she commented as she lifted it to her lap. Opening it, she found a selection of bath oils and bath gels. She removed one of the caps and sniffed delicately. "Ummm. That's nice." She offered it to Duncan who agreed.

"I spent *hours* picking them out," Richie said. "I hope you like them."

Tessa continued to work her way through the various bottles. "Oh, I do like them, Richie. I think I'm going to be spending a lot of time in the bathtub for a while. In fact, you're going to have to tell me where you bought them because I like these scents better than the ones I normally buy."

Richie beamed. "Sure, Tessa. Okay, I have one more gift for each of you, but you have to open them together." He handed each of them an envelope.

Exchanging curious glances, they opened them and pulled out the strips of paper while Richie explained.

"These are coupons for various things. For instance, the first one is for doing dishes. Whenever you want, you can cash in the coupon and I'll take your turn doing the dishes for you. Understand?"

"What a cute idea," Tessa said as she looked through her slips, reading them out loud. "Dish washing, vacuuming, doing laundry, taking clothes to cleaners, car wash, car tune-up... Richie!" She looked at the teenager in shock, holding out one of the slips. "Why would I want you to do this?"

Richie looked at the slip, then blushed heavily. "Well, I threw in a few of them that weren't exactly meant for me to do. Like that one. I figured Mac could handle that."

Duncan reached for the slip. "'This coupon entitles bearer to one free backrub.' I think I can handle that assignment," he said with a leer at Tessa. "Mine are a lot like yours. Working in the shop, car wash, car tune-up, and breakfast in bed. I think we're going to enjoy these coupons a lot. Thanks, Rich."

Tessa echoed the sentiments before turning back to finish reading her slips.

Richie looked at the pile of opened gifts around him. So, he hadn't gotten the motorcycle parts, but he didn't really care. "This has to be the *best* Christmas I've ever had," he said with a huge smile. "And to think I almost blew it."

"It's not quite over yet," Duncan said, exchanging a knowing glance with Tessa. "There's one more package-I think you missed it. Look again."

Richie crouched down and scanned the area under the tree. Spotting the tiny box, he picked it up. It was for him. He opened it and found a toy motorcycle in it. "I don't understand."

"We wanted to get you a new motorcycle for Christmas, but we decided that it would be better if you helped to pick it out. So, we wrapped the toy up as your gift. We'll go shopping as soon as the stores open tomorrow," Duncan explained.

Richie looked back and forth between them, unable to think of what to say. "You don't have to..." he finally muttered.

"We know that," Duncan interrupted. "Remember our little chat this morning? We *want* to do this."

"I don't know what to say..."

"Tessa, call the papers-Richie is speechless," Duncan teased. "Just say thank you."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," Duncan and Tessa chorused together.

"Now then, who's going to pick up this mess?" Duncan asked as he looked at the littered paper strewn across the room.

"Hmmm. Let me check my coupons out," Tessa said with a smile. "No, no coupon for that. I guess we'll all have to help."

Richie went to fetch a garbage bag. When he came back, Mac and Tessa were kissing each other under the mistletoe. While waiting for them to end the embrace, he thought back to all the worry he had gone through over the past two days and wanted to laugh. He couldn't have been further from the truth. He vowed that he would do better in the future, especially in the trust department. For the first time, he really, truly felt like one of the family. It was a great feeling.

The end.


End file.
